


(Agni)ted Flame

by Everything_Everything



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for End of Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:19:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everything_Everything/pseuds/Everything_Everything
Summary: On the day of the new Fire Lord's coronation ceremony, Ozai bathes in the sparing light of Agni as he sifts through his conflicted feelings toward his firstborn...





	(Agni)ted Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos if you enjoyed it! Comments about concept, characterization, or plot discussion are encouraged!!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

“All hail Firelord Zuko! All hail Firelord Zuko!”

Firelord Zuko. Obtaining the throne by default and no deed of his own. How he defeated his younger sister was still a mystery. Zuko had always been three steps behind, when it came to how he compared to Azula. No matter how many skills he developed, it was never enough to surpass the fire nation prodigy. And learning he did - excessive skills normal firebenders rendered useless due to their connection with Agni’s flame.

But Zuko was different. Ozai had always known Zuko was different - and not just because he was an embarrassment to Agni in his early stages of bending. No. Ozai noticed it the moment the toddling boy had become more autonomous in his infancy.

His brother was visiting capital city on leave, there to celebrate his new promotion to general. Iroh sat against the wall, playing the tsungi horn to his heart’s content. Ursa fumbled over her feet, as she taught his nephew forbidden movements from days long past - no doubt tipsy from the chosen vine of the night. Ozai had opted to remain sober in the midst of the noble occasion. He didn’t understand his elder brother’s decision to gamble his birthright away on the front lines of the war. It was careless and stupid of him and it shocked him that Fire Lord Azulon honored such behavior.

One of the lieutenants was attempting to entice his son with a flame in the palm of his hand. He watched from his seat how the babe rolled onto his back, totally ignoring the usually captivating sight before him. Most children with an affinity toward firebending usually manipulated the flame the slightest bit or reached out for it in the very least. No one said anything about Zuko’s unusual disinterest out of respect for the crown prince, but Ozai knew what they all were thinking. The royal bloodline had finally given birth to an heir without the inner flame. Because Ozai was not the next in line, many did not feel obligated to further investigate this issue. But if he were ever to take the throne for any reason, it could pose a dilemma.

Ozai glanced at his wife, who was currently pregnant with their second offspring. Hopefully, this one would fair a more admirable fate. A gasp from the lieutenant had Ozai averting his attention back to his living and breathing child. His eyes widened a fraction as the wobbly toddler stood to his feet. He had yet to begin walking on his own, yet here he was clumsily crossing his feet over the other and tumbling to the floor. He stood up again, with more difficulty this time, and attempted to cross his legs again - this time his foot getting caught in the blanket beneath his feet. The lieutenant caught Zuko, before his head could smash into the floor and the boy squirmed in the woman’s grasp.

“Mmn~ Da!”

The babe pointed his finger in the direction of the crowd and Ozai followed the gesture to his wife giggling merrily with Lu Ten, twirling excitedly to the song being played. She crossed one foot behind the other, copying the action twice more, before spinning in a circle, her arm extended toward his nephew. When she did the move again, Ozai realized Zuko had been trying to mimic her dancing. His son had picked up on the footwork of the dancing, instead of the heat of the flame. Uncoordinated, yet light on his feet like some kind of an air-

...Ah-huh.

Ozai chuckled at the irony. Although, it’s already been confirmed that his son is indeed not the Avatar, the possibility of his proclivity for other bending forms still nagged at the back of his mind. He wondered if this was his curse for siring a child within the lineage of his grandfather’s biggest sin. Avatar Roku...It was rare for Avatars to start their own families and he had not studied enough cases of integrated families to know if it were possible for offspring to inherit other bending abilities if their sire were the Avatar.

Several years passed and soon enough Azula had called upon her inner flame. It had occurred with such ease and without even a second thought that it was impossible for Ozai not to wonder about Zuko. The boy was ecstatic to have created his first flame at the age of five, extremely delayed in comparison to his noble counterparts. He’d run up to Ozai at breakfast and pounded his fist about fifteen times before a flame burst from his palm, almost searing his face at the raging heat from it.

“So the meditation did you some good.” Ozai’s dry response did nothing to damper young Zuko’s zeal and state of accomplishment. “Very well; I will train you at sunrise every fifth day. Your preliminary lessons will begin under Shuai Ling, starting tomorrow.”

Zuko leapt into the air with delight, practically prancing with joy. He stopped before his mother and sister in her lap, who was clapping along excitedly to Zuko’s merriment. Azula pounded her fist into her palm just as she’d seen Zuko do seconds before, sparks flying from her closed fist and catching them all by surprise.

Ursa let out a barking laugh from the shock of it all. “Looks like our Azula has a flame of her own to get out!”

Ozai couldn’t help the quirk to his lips at the sight. “A true firebender indeed.”

In his proud relief, he paid no attention to what he’d just let slip. It was pretty obvious that Zuko’s lack of skill in bending disappointed him, however he had never explicitly verbalized the notion. Zuko extinguished his flame immediately and tried to smile for his sister, who was giggling in delight at her older brother. Ursa noticed her son’s change in demeanor and brought the two sibling’s hands together within her grasp.

“The two greatest firebenders this nation has ever seen!”

Azula was truly a prodigy and he was right to offer her the strictest firebending masters in the capital. The twins taught her well and kept her skills sharp. This very reason was why Ozai did not take it lightly that his intuition of Zuko was so strong. It wasn’t just Zuko’s abnormal interests and affinities that made Ozai wary of the boy’s potential, but the very fact that Zuko was indeed his son. And unfortunately, his brother caught on to this characteristic, as well.

Ozai had become frustrated with Zuko’s lack of control and decided to motivate the boy by suspending him from more lessons with him until he could summon the flame without interference. It was a waste of time to constantly have to coax the fire from the boy and, if it were a real battle, the prince would be killed for his negligence. It was pointless to continue entertaining such clumsiness and Ozai was not going to coddle the boy, either.

When three weeks had passed and Zuko had not sought him out for help, Ozai became curious of how the boy was fairing. He strolled past the courtyard where his son spent most of his free time to observe Zuko’s progress. Zuko breathed in and out before slowly going through the motions of a kata he must have recently learned. He continued to repeat the kata until it became more fluid. Ozai studied his motions, before recognizing the technique as one his grandfather had mastered as a young man. Zuko folded an arm in the crook of his elbow, swiping his leg from in front of him into a wide straddle. Zuko lowered his butt into a sitting position, before extending his body to its fullest height, head craned skyward. Only, the amazing feat was diminished by the weak flames ejected from his body.

“Where did you learn that technique?”

Zuko started violently, choking on a breath of air and coughing up what tasted like sut. The eight year old braced himself on his knees, before looking up at his father in surprise. His father hardly ever visited the courtyard anymore. Zuko hadn’t even thought the man knew where to find him, honestly. Probably one of the servants ratted him out. He gulped before straightening into a more respectable stance and bowed stiffly.

“Father! I wasn’t expecting you.” He replied, evading the question entirely.

“I won’t ask again.” Ozai demanded, narrowing his eyes at the nervous tick. Zuko always spoke overtly formal when he was hiding something.

Zuko knew what he’d been practicing was an advanced technique and not something his father or mentor had ever shown him. “I learned it from Lu Ten. I was actually going to uncle for some advice, but he was busy. So, he told Lu Ten to give me some pointers.” Unsure what the blank look on his father’s face meant, Zuko continued to explain himself. “Uncle told him that the best way to learn firebending is to directly pull from your inner flame. I guess, the breath of fire is a technique that does just that, so uncle wanted me to start with that.”

Zuko ran a hand up and down his arm, momentarily, before dropping it back to his side. Ozai was pretty impressed that his son could connect with his inner flame so efficiently. However, it irritated him to no end that his brother was the factor that helped him tap into that buried potential. His son was supposed to come to him once he decided he was actually going to take his training seriously, yet he went behind his back to be trained by Iroh, instead.

Ozai made it clear to Zuko that he was never to accept training from another, unless he approved of them. The boy had given him a confounded stare before questioning his exact orders. He wanted to justify his actions by stating that Iroh was not his father, but that would insinuate he was jealous of his brother - which was absolutely absurd. Instead, he settled for a hard look that shut up the boy’s questioning.

Although Zuko had agreed to his terms, it didn’t deter the young firebender from seeking out more training. He was behind in his forms and well below Azula in his level of technique. The depression the boy fell into after his mother went missing only served to further diminish his flames. Ozai admits to neglecting the boy’s training in full after being crowned the Firelord; plans needed to be put into action. He was certain that the boy was a lost cause, anyhow.

Then Zuko had presented himself before the firelord in the throne room late one evening. Usually, the prince favored solitude after dinner and was rarely seen after sundown. For him to visit the throne room amidst Ozai’s meditation hour was calculated and suspicious.

He raised a hand to dismiss the royal guard and exhaled from his nose, abating the fire just before his throne. “Prince Zuko. You’ve arisen from the great abyss.”

The light joke fell flat on the preteen, standing with his shoulders slightly slumped. Ozai frowned at the poor posture, ignoring the small twist in his chest pressing him to verbalize the concern. Zuko's gaze remained locked with his own, a glint of determination burning in them. Maybe all wasn’t lost, Ozai thought.

“I want to go train with Master Piandao.”

I spoke too soon, he relented.

“Piandao is not one of the royal mentors. How is it that you became acquainted with his expertise?” Ozai inquired in an even tone, despite the fire kindling just beneath his skin.

“Uncle has provided me with an alternative to firebending, at least until my inner flame is re-ignited.”

A snarl broke through Ozai’s mask of indifference at the mention of his brother. “Your uncle should know that an heir deprived of Agni's flame is seen as a disgrace. Why would I send my offspring to learn a useless skill such as swordsmanship when he is less than proficient in the art of his nation? Are you telling me that you are accepting failure?”

Zuko's fortitude faltered a bit at the harsh rebuttal. “I am not giving up. I just need to feel useful again. I need an outlet and firebending hasn’t been that thing for weeks!”

Zuko’s eyes were squeezed shut, not bold enough to meet his father's eyes, yet Ozai’s skin still prickled with rage-induced steam at the boy’s audacity to raise his voice. The weakling wanted to feel important, then he’ll send him to the crass swordsman and let the master rip him a new one. He’d met Piandao before and if there was anything the man hated most, it was spoiled nobility with an even hotter temper. Zuko wouldn’t last two days before he was sent back.

And, oh, how wrong Ozai had been. He’d greatly underestimated the extent of Piandao’s patience and the strength of his camaraderie with Iroh. After a month of basic training, Piandao sent Zuko back to the palace agreeing to home-school the prince every half moon cycle. Zuko returned to capital city with more confidence, shoulders squared accordingly, and his head held high with pride. The worst part of it all, or the most fortunate product of these events - Ozai couldn’t decide - was the return of Zuko’s fire.

It was a blow to his ego and, yet, a relief he hadn’t known he’d been anticipating. Zuko’s inner flame was ever-present and strong! His fire burned hotter than ever before, almost as if the boy had been practicing more than just sword fighting while he’d been away. His bending techniques were still not on par with Azula's, but Ozai could care less about those particular details, at the time. These turn of events only served to further confirm Ozai’s suspicions. Zuko’s inner flame and very being had fused into one. He wondered if Zuko has ever had a mythical spirit world journey often shared as tall tales to children before bed. It was always known that a bender's emotions were linked to their element, but extreme emotions on either side of the spectrum only served to strengthen one's bending. One's bending never just disappeared…

Ozai's mood darkened as fresh memories of his battle with the Avatar came to mind. He could still feel Agni’s flame radiating within his soul, yet there was no way for him to draw from it. Unlike other spirits, Agni cared little for mortal affairs. Agni was a spirit of passion, who relished in the powerful essence that was life. It mattered not that the person’s ambitions were of pure intent or not. The muting of his fire was not Agni’s doing - of that, he was certain. Silencing the flame was similar to cutting off Agni’s source of life.

Perhaps those were Agni’s original intentions when it bound itself to Zuko in such a way. The Fire Sages once informed him that the mind and soul were one in the same. With access to both entities, Agni could likely experience the unbridled desires of many living beings to a higher degree - desires often contained, due to the pressure of societal norms. In all the years Agni imparted its flame to the fire nation, the spirit had to have observed the negative effects of emotionally-guided behaviors. A defeatist attitude only served to smother its flame. In Zuko, the flame was completely extinguished - just as Ozai’s is extinguished in its present state.

The feelings of helplessness and inadequacy that overcame Ozai due to the inability to tap into his inner flame were emotions unfamiliar to him. He could only brood in the bitterness of defeat at the hands of a 12-year-old prodigy, as he watched his son take the crown in wake of a new era. It was not too long ago that the same young man was gazing up at him with the soft, golden pools of an attention-starved child. The very next minute, those eyes were filled with a blackened cold rage. A rage he recalls being reflected in the eyes of the late Fire Lord Azulon upon their last encounter.

His only son, his firstborn no longer thought of him as father - possibly hated him with the overflowing passion of Agni’s flame. The thought weighed heavily on his mind, shaking him to his core. More so than the burden of guilt, Ozai was disturbed by the fact that he actually cared what his traitorous son thought about him! 

Usually he'd clear his mind of all disturbances via meditation or by expending all his focus on honing his technique. Except, now he is essentially a non-bender, so his normal coping mechanisms are void. Without access to the flame, Ozai is forced to acknowledge the feelings he’s harbored towards his firstborn all these years. He was outraged at the boy's cowardice on the Day of Black Sun, running with his tail between his legs after delivering an almost fatal counterattack. Yet, another part of him was intrigued by his son’s newfound development of precision and technique learned away from home.

It wounded his pride that Zuko had learned so well under Iroh's teachings - because who else would think to redirect lightning, but the kook himself? However, he couldn't fault his son for the determination to obtain his goal at any cost. It was in their blood - longsuffering and stubbornness. It was how he knew Zuko was his, even when Lady Ursa attempted to trick him those many years ago. It’s why his own heart is conflicted on how to feel in this moment.

He acknowledged and preened in the talents of his second-born child. Azula. The prodigy who didn’t take her gift for granted. She trained just as hard, if not harder, than any soldier he’d seen. Her wit was tactful and quick, almost ruthless in her rule. Never missing an opportunity to benefit from one’s weakness. She had all the traits to become a powerful ruler, yet he’d still halted himself from officially crowning her heir to the throne after Zuko’s banishment. He saw the way Azula manipulated everyone around her, from her closest companions to her own brother. He had not forgotten her dishonesty upon her return from Ba Sing Se. She was just as attention-seeking as her beloved brother. Needing approval for every task she performed and not willing to accept failure, even in herself. What would happen if she had no one to applaud her? What would happen if she lost control?

With Zuko, he returned as a reflection of the son he once knew, yet didn’t know at all. A man with a stony resolve, who was in full control of his flame. Notwithstanding the aura of tenderness that surmounted his being. Azula had gone down a path he suspected would happen, as she experienced the world outside the capital. Upon Zuko’s return, Azula had latched herself to his side, appearing more relaxed and playful than in the years of his absence. Ozai had taken notice of how her companions easily became Zuko’s companions. Jealousy was always a trait of Azula’s; one he was surprised hadn’t been inherited by Zuko. What entertained him about this phenomena, was the question of whom she was jealous. Zuko? Or her companions?

Ozai knew his children. He knew Azula even more. Her brother meant more to her than she let on. And she hinted to this affection quite heavily, if one knew what to observe. Ozai had certainly recognized this and did not hesitate in trying to rid the child of this handicap. Though, it seems that he had misjudged her. Not only did she not return with the Avatar, but she returned with the traitor - proclaiming him to be a hero. To her, she was shifting the blame, thus evading the chance of failure. To Ozai, she had willingly handed over the throne and later revealed she could not be trusted. It was why he made the final decision to crown Zuko as heir to the throne, once more. Who knew Zuko’s resolve wasn’t as solid as it appeared?

He’d been informed of the boy’s nightly visits to Iroh’s cell. Should have followed him on the occasion he caught sight of a robed figure sneaking across the palace grounds. He didn’t know where the boy learned to be so stealthy, but he had a shadow of a doubt that Zuko was the person who’d snuck into the catacombs a week before the eclipse. Ozai had come to this conclusion in the days following that shocking turn of events. It was confirmed during his hearing, when he saw the headpiece framing the royal top knot atop his son’s head. The last anyone had seen it had been upon the head of the last Avatar, his son’s great-grandfather: Avatar Roku.

A smirk spread across Ozai’s face in that moment, as he could only fume in humiliation at the spirits’ subtle mockery of his end. No doubt, Ursa had stashed it somewhere deep within the catacombs, one day to be worn by the rightful crowned prince. Perhaps Agni knew what it was doing, binding itself - spirit, mind, and soul - to Zuko.

“A seed planted in the right soil allows for an overabundance of growth.”

Fire Lord Sozin shared this proverb with his grandchildren every chance he could. It was in reference to the Avatar in hiding. If raised in enemy territory, the Avatar became an obstacle to overcome. But an Avatar with a vengeance produced enough anxiety to lose sleep over. It was why Ozai new he could never trust any Avatar that crossed his path. His grandfather's transgression may have presented the opening needed for worldwide enlightenment, but it was also the catalyst for spiritual imbalance. 

If Sozin’s memoir was an authentic testament of his life experiences, it was a wonder that the spirits even allowed a union of the two warring lineages. He should have pondered this happenstance more at the time, but alas his faith in his assigned destiny overrode any doubts.

Long ago, Iroh had told him stories of designing one’s own fate. He’d grasped onto that mantra and molded it over the years into a strategy for ultimate power. Now he sees where he and his brother had gone wrong. Destiny was not shaped by sheer will alone, but was given life by the grace of the spirits. Agni’s flame may have gotten him to the throne, but the Avatar’s spirit soon found a replacement. Ozai wouldn't put it past him if Roku's spirit was the force which permitted Agni to ingrain its being with Zuko's.

If that were the case, Ozai would just have to concede to this defeat. Fate was not something one mortal being could control, right? He learned that the hard way.

**Author's Note:**

> Skip, if you don't care for A/N:
> 
> This fic began as an urge to write a heartwrenching encounter between Ozai and Zuko. As the weeks passed, it became a monologue about Ozai's view of his son. Then more weeks passed and I felt like Ozai wasn't one to brood in self-angst. He seems like he'd have very much a survivor's spirit alikened to his own son. For me, Azula is much like Ursa, where she cracked under emotional/mental stress and had to erase her memories or risk going insane (much like Azula's breakdown). Ozai and Zuko always find justifications for things, so they can move on. The justifications may not be healthy or right (Zuko justifying his actions in Ba Sing Se, even though he was betraying his Uncle), but they are able to move on.
> 
> Even if he may resent Zuko for throwing him in the dungeons and Aang for taking his bending, I believe Ozai would come to terms with his predicament, eventually. Too stubborn to die and too prideful to allow them "the pleasure" of seeing him lose his mind


End file.
